Page 85 of The Viscount's Silent Pugilist

“Who is ready for a mill?” the duke called to his guests.

“Me!” Genevieve hollered, her voice mingling with those of her new unlikely friends.

*

Bear had beencorrect; carriages were everywhere, and spectators packed the old mill. The fires flaming in the braziers did little to heat the high-ceilinged building, and in Genevieve’s humble opinion, they were fire hazards set amongst the unruly mob.

Whale escorted her through the cheering crowd to the slightly raised platform, where he lifted the rope so that she and Franny could climb into the ring.

“You do good, Miss Ghost,” Whale said.

As she tickled him under the chin, his gigantic body shook with laughter.

Feeling oddly at peace, Genevieve strolled to her corner and searched the crowd for Jonathan. He stood so close that she could look into his eyes for a dose of courage. But, for the first time in her life, she possessed all the mettle she needed. He blew her a kiss, which she caught and placed over her heart.

“Thorny Rose,” the crowd cheered as Shark escorted Roseanna and Josie through the throng to the opposite corner.

Bear raised his hand. Once the crowd quieted to a low rumble, he brought his speaking trumpet to his mouth. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready for His Grace’s Frosty Set-to?”

The crowd went wild, chanting, clapping, and stomping.

Once the cacophony subsided, Bear continued. “Thank you to His Grace, the Duke of Griffendale, for hosting this fine mill. All of today’s participants train at the best boxing gymnasium in London, The Silk Knuckles Saloon. We are starting the afternoon off with some lady pugilists. Don’t be fooled by their beauty. Warrior hearts beat beneath their soft skin.”

Bear’s dramatic pause gave the audience time to raise a proper din.

“Stick around,” he declared, “and keep the wagers coming because we have with us today eight of the deadliest fists in London.”

“Roll like the Stone,” some spectators cheered.

“Kill ’em Thumbs,” someone hollered.

“Womp! Pete the Trojan. Womp! Pete The Trojan.”

“S-s-spider,” a few dozen people hissed.

Genevieve absorbed the crowd’s enthusiasm and energy until her body hummed with excitement. Hopping from one foot to the other, she shook out her hands.

“Up first,” Bear said. “Oh, you’re gonna love these beauties. Up first, we have Thorny Rose and The Ghost.”

The crowd was so rambunctious that the platform beneath Genevieve vibrated.

“In this corner—” his hand palm-up, Bear presented Genevieve. “The specter who strikes, then vanishes. ’Tis her first time in the ring, so show this fast-moving phantom some fondness. The Ghost!”

“Go, Ghost, go,” someone yelled. The chant caught on, echoing around Genevieve.

“Go, Ghost, go,” Jonathan chorused so loudly that Genevieve distinguished his voice from all the others.

Unfortunately, it was time for Genevieve to prance around the ring to show the spectators what she was made of. “The Fancy does love a show,” Bear had told her on the carriage rideto the mill. “Give ’em what they want. Make ’em happy and you have a place at The Purple Rabbit.” However, since she was to be a wealthy viscount’s wife, she was no longer desperate for money. She still wanted to be a pugilist, but now she could fight on her own terms and remain true to herself. If Bear didn’t think she was exciting enough, then he would lose his “honest-to-God, born and bred lady.”

As the crowd chanted, “Give ’em The Ghost,” Genevieve promenaded the perimeter of the ring, smiling, waving, and blowing kisses. Nothing aggressive, nothing tawdry, nothing scandalous. Just her, showing appreciation to those who were there to cheer for her. Of course, since she was the granddaughter of an earl, she was well aware that her participation itself was exceedingly scandalous.

Once Genevieve returned to Franny, Bear swung his upturned palm in Roseanna’s direction. Even in her “ugly rag” and men’s shirt and breeches, she looked both feminine and formidable.

“And in this corner, fair to see, but deadly to touch, we have the undefeated Thorny Rose.”

“Thorn-ey Rose, Thorn-ey Rose,” the crowd cheered as Roseanna prowled the ring, stopping here and there to throw a combination of rapid punches. Roseanna was larger than life and so confident that she didn’t have to resort to stripteases or bawdy behavior like some of the other female fighters did while trying to appease the crowd.

Bear motioned for Genevieve and Roseanna to join him in the center of the ring. They approached and stared into each other’s eyes while trying to look adversarial as they fought smiles.